


Heatstroke

by kunstvogel



Series: Winnix Vignettes [3]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Fluff, Genderswap, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2019-02-14 13:51:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13009185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kunstvogel/pseuds/kunstvogel
Summary: Dixie and Louise meet in a coffeeshop.





	Heatstroke

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt fill for dancinguniverse.

The bustling crowd of tourists and residents flow down the street like the water in the creek Dixie used to play in when she was little. New York is nothing like Lancaster, though, crowded and tall and too packed with people. It’s a hot day, and the ocean wind doesn’t make it this deep into the city, so she’s sweating already despite her light outfit. Dixie buys a water bottle off a street vendor and drains it in minutes. She shoulders her purse and pushes back into the crowd, determined to make it at least halfway to Coney Island before stopping for a mid-morning snack.

The first few days she’d been in New York, Dixie hadn’t been impressed. If not for the full-ride scholarship at Brooklyn Law, a university she quite liked already, she’d have left the city within a week. But it’d begun to grow on her after a month, and now she has two jobs, a gym membership, and a summer studio apartment split with two of her classmates.

Seeing she’s almost at the halfway point, Dixie ducks into the closest coffee shop. Inside the shop, it’s even hotter than it is outside, and she practically gasps for air, feeling suddenly lightheaded and nauseated. Dixie shoves it down and looks over the menu as she waits in line, feeling increasingly sick. The smell of the bread and coffee is cloying, thick and heavy like syrup in the air. By the time Dixie goes up to place her order, she’s sure it shows on her face, but the cashier doesn’t even look at her as he scrawls her name on a cup and checks out her salad.

As Dixie waits beside a table for her iced coffee, one of the waitresses catches her eye. A little short, with thick, curly black hair almost down to her waist, she moves between the tables with the sort of grace that comes from a lifetime of dancing. She casts Dixie a faint smile as she passes by, close enough for Dixie to see her mascara and meticulously plucked eyebrows.

Dixie can’t keep her eyes off of her. She watches as the girl - _Louise_ , her name tag reads - serves a couple in the back, a man alone at a table across from Dixie. Louise runs back and forth like any other worker but it’s different somehow, almost enchanting. She catches Dixie watching her and simpers, rouged lips curling up to reveal perfect teeth. Dixie can’t help the way her cheeks color, and she curses her pale complexion, ducking her head in embarrassment.

 _It’s just the heat_ , she tells herself.

The next order Louise brings out is hers. Dixie straightens and moves to take the cup, but the lightheadedness catches up with her and she sees herself fall.

*

Dixie wakes up lying back on a couch, her purse under her head, a fan gently blowing air in her face. The air is only marginally cooler than that of the rest of the room, but it’s nowhere near the stifling, humid temperature the cafe had been.

“Oh, thank God,” a woman says, “I was just about to call an ambulance, if you weren’t awake.”

Dixie squints up at the other woman, not displeased to find that it’s Louise. Her head pounds and her mouth feels suddenly dry, though not from emotion. “Could I have a drink, please?”

“Sure.” Louise fills a paper cup from the jug on the table next to her and hands it over. Dixie drinks greedily, thirstier than she’s ever been. Upon glancing around, she realizes she’s in the break room of the coffee shop and sits up.

“What happened?”

“You fainted, straight into my arms.” Louise smiles coyly. “You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

Dixie blushes. “I didn’t faint on purpose.”

“I was just teasing. You’ll be okay, right? Should I still call an ambulance?”

“I think I’m fine. Thanks for the help.” Dixie stands up, ready to be back on her way.

“I’ll get you another coffee,” Louise says. “You can stay here if you want, I know it’s hot out there.” She walks away before Dixie can say anything, so she sits down at the table where her salad sits unopened and digs in. Hardly a moment later, Louise pops back in with her coffee, setting it on the table with a significant look before walking off again.

Dixie inspects the cup, curious. She notices that Louise had written something on the back of the name tag and peels it off, turning it over to read what it says.

_Saturday 4PM - The Met? Text me!_

_347-4441_

Dixie grins.

*

Extra: _Stripped_

 

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

Louise glances over at Dixie, who’s taken her shirt off and is working on the clasp of her bra now. She’s already blushing, her cheeks bright red like the strawberries she loves so much. Louise smiles at her before turning back to the camera and tripod she’s setting up.

“Well, you said you were willing,” Louise says. “It’s kind of late to back out now.”

Dixie huffs. “I didn’t say I would back out on you. I’m just...embarrassed. I’ve never done this before.” She takes her bra off, letting it fall to the floor, and works open her jeans. Lou eyes her from behind the camera; exposed from the waist up, her hair growing out of the pixie it’d been in when they met just four months ago, Lou thinks Dixie is the most beautiful thing she’s ever laid eyes on.

“Just act natural,” Lou advises softly. “You’ll look amazing.”

Dixie turns to smile at her. “Thanks, Lou,” she says, and promptly shucks her jeans off.

“Hey, nice panties.”

Dixie peels them off and chucks them at Lou’s head. Lou laughs as they fall to the floor in a heap of pink lace. Dixie stands there, indignant, her arms crossed over her chest. She tries and fails to look offended for a moment before she cracks up too, giggling.

“Alright,” says Lou, “let’s get started.”


End file.
